


Number One

by jamesdeandickqueen



Category: Queer Eye for the Straight Guy RPF
Genre: Antoni Porowski - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Tan France - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 00:10:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15545304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesdeandickqueen/pseuds/jamesdeandickqueen
Summary: Tan has never been a dancer, but sometimes it's just all about who's your partner.





	Number One

“Wanna dance?”

  
The music is so loud that it’s hard to understand the words, but when Tan looks up, he finds Antoni looking down at him. There’s a lopsided smile on his face, his hair is mussed and his eyes shine even brighter than usual, the size of his pupils telling Tan that the drink he is holding isn’t his first, or second.

  
“Not particularly, no”, Tan responds, because there is some pop song playing he doesn’t know, and because he has never really been much of a dancer anyway. “But I’m sure Karamo or Jonathan would love to.”

  
“Not really.” Antoni takes a drink from his glass, then uses it to gesture in Jonathan’s direction, who is animatedly talking to a young man Tan has never seen before, flicking his hair in a way that would make Beyoncé proud.  “Jonathan is trying to find himself a husband and I have no idea where Karamo has been for the last hour or so.”

  
“So I’m only your third choice anyway?” Tan asks, can’t help but grin, and Antoni laughs, his head thrown back to expose his neck, his collarbones peeking out from his open shirt. There is a moment in which Tan has to repress the urge to look away.

“Don’t worry, you’re my first choice at any other given point of time”, Antoni replies, half yelling over the music, winks at him. “But-“

  
He’s clearly about to make some kind of well-deserved jab at Tan, but stops mid-sentence, his entire body going still as the song changes. Instead of a harsh beat, there’s melodious synthesiser drifting through the room now, and Antoni looks at him with a kind of elation Tan has only seen on him at farmer’s markets, or in obscure little Polish restaurants on the edge of town.

  
It’s the kind of joy which is contagious, spills from his eyes down to his lips, to the rest of his body, which makes him look ten years younger and makes Tan feel the same way.

“You absolutely have to dance with me now”, Antoni declares and downs his drink in one go, before setting down the glass. “That’s my favourite song.”

  
Before Tan has any chance to answer, warm fingers wrap themselves around his wrist and pull him up, almost, just almost into Antoni’s arms. And there must be something wrong with their air conditioning, because suddenly, Tan is feeling a little bit out of breath.

  
“But I don’t even know the song!” He tries to no avail; Antoni drags him out to the dance floor, and if Tan is entirely honest, it’s not as if he minded it much.

  
“One day, I’ll give you a crash course in good music, but for now, you’ll just have to experience the wonders of Goldfrapp’s _Number One_ without further introduction," Antoni tells him, the smile still on his face as he spins Tan around and pulls him closer, arms around Tan’s neck, and his eyes impossibly bright in the dark room.

  
Every reply that might have been waiting on Tan’s lips dies right there.

His hands find their way to Antoni’s hips, resting there as they start to move, Antoni taking the lead and Tan following gladly. The song is sweet, a woman singing and Antoni mouthing the words along with her, hardly ever missing a beat. He looks carefree, happy, and if his next step brings Tan a little bit closer to Antoni, Tan refuses to notice it.  

  
And although he’s not a dancer, although the song is still unfamiliar, this feels right. Antoni’s hands warm on the back of his neck, the excitement shining out of his eyes, the way Tan’s heart seems to expand and yet feels too small to hold all the affection and warmth inside. Sometimes he just has these little moments, scattered throughout the day, in which he feels so impossibly, impossibly grateful for having this – this career, this opportunity, these people in his life.

He must get lost in it this time, because before he knows it, the song ends, and Tan could go back to his seat – Antoni expects him to, he can see it written across his face, feel his hands loosening their grip just so – but he doesn’t. Instead he stays, although he doesn’t know the next song either, feels Antoni’s hold tighten once more.

  
And with it, something changes. Not everything, because that’s not how the world works, just enough for Tan to notice. The room around them seems darker while Antoni’s eyes shine brighter, the music sounds softer and the weight of Antoni’s arms on his shoulders feels heavier than before, the air becomes thicker and almost electric between them, the atmosphere suddenly intimate.

Tan can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not, but Antoni seems to move closer, his fingers curling to brush against the skin just above Tan’s shirt, his breath is warm against Tan’s cheek and smells like the Mai Tais he’s been drinking all night. They’re still dancing, and it would be enough for Tan, but Antoni licks his lips, then looks away from him, and Tan knows that something is happening, that something will change, before Antoni has even started speaking.

  
“Do you think we’d be good together?”, Antoni asks, and his voice sounds like something Tan might once have heard in a dream, soft and tentative in asking, but certain in what lies beneath the words themselves. At least for a moment, in the next one, he is shaking his head, like he just realised what he said, and is suddenly uncertain after all. “Forget that, I didn’t mean to say that… No, wait, I did. I absolutely did mean to ask you, I just didn’t think I’d actually do it. I’ve been meaning to ask you that for a long time now.”

The smile that has been occupying his lips before has turned bashful, a little bit self -depreciating, almost horrible to look at. He’s still not looking at Tan, and suddenly it feels unbearable, so Tan takes one hand off Antoni’s hip and puts it on his cheek instead; it only takes the lightest pressure for Antoni to turn his head, but another second until he finally looks at him.

  
And then another, until Tan realises that he doesn’t have an answer.

  
“I- I don’t know”, he says softly and hopes that Antoni can still hear him over the music. “I’ve never thought about it.”

But he’s thinking about it now, with Antoni watching him, brown eyes clear and cautiously hopeful. Thinking about the times he walked onto set and found Antoni waiting with a cup of coffee for him. About the times Antoni fell asleep half on top of him, and everything Tan wanted to do was hold him closer, the late-night phone calls that lasted for hours and the constant messages when they are off set. About how he loves all the guys, but is always most excited to see Antoni again.

  
And he thinks, maybe Antoni is right.

“We might be”, he finally says, knows it’s the truth the second he hears himself say the words. “I think.”

  
And Antoni’s face lights up again, not like it did with Goldfrapp; it’s different. It’s a glow from within, like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds after a day of rain, like from now on, the tune Antoni dances to will be a happier one.

  
“That’s great”, he replies, and Tan doesn’t know who of them steps closer, but they end up so close that Tan can smell Antoni’s aftershave, the alcohol on his breath.

Again, the song they’re dancing to changes, but Tan hardly notices, because Antoni’s fingers are combing through the hair on the back of his head.

  
And because Antoni tilts his head slightly, and with his voice almost too soft to hear, asks, “Then how about we give it a try? Find out together?”

  
It’s that one word, which should hardly matter, but Antoni says _together_ , and Tan finds himself nodding, without a second thought. As if he was waiting to say yes for such a long time already.

  
His hand is still loosely cupping Antoni’s cheek, and when the other smiles, Tan can’t help but drag his thumb across his lips, feel the curl of them against his skin.

  
Maybe later, once the party has wound down, they’ll kiss, drunk and happy and nervous all at once. Or maybe they’ll wait for the next morning, waking up next to each other with their fingers intertwined like so often, but with another connotation, greet the new sun with a new beginning.

  
But for now, Tan thinks, and buries his face in the crook of Antoni’s neck, breathes him in, this is more than enough.


End file.
